


In Medias Res [Eren x Depressed!Reader]

by LonelyPeony



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Attraction, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4351046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyPeony/pseuds/LonelyPeony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the midst of things" </p><p>~ "We used to write letters. It was my idea [...] It was only a matter of time before I saw his true self and he saw mine." "Everyone's a burden [...] Everyone needs taking care of." ~ </p><p>An angsty two-shot for Eren Jaeger and Levi Ackerman from SnK / Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin. A tale of one-sided loves (but love, nonetheless), laced with themes of depression and suicide. The first chapter is told through 1st person POV, while the second chapter is told in 2nd person POV.</p><p>"Is there no way out of the mind?" - Sylvia Plath</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Medias Res

We used to write letters. It was my idea. They say that it helps when you write down your feelings. I thought of keeping a diary or typing on a blank Word document and deleting it. But then I thought it wouldn’t have helped that much because no one was reading it.  
  
And so there we were. The two of us with my stupid idea. Sometimes stupid works, sometimes it doesn’t. And in this situation, it’s hard to say.  
  
I used to hate him. I hated his arrogant face, his cocky attitude, his hard-as-a-rock determination. He craved attention and praise, and that’s what he got. It was irritating. He gloated; he acted like he was the invincible main character – like the world revolved around him. He thought he was so great, like he was the “chosen one” or something. But this is real life; there is no “chosen one.”  
  
I don’t know why I was so nice to him, but we had common interests. And I don’t know if it was he or I who changed, but eventually it became okay to be around him. He’s still pretty brash, don’t get me wrong, but it seems diluted nowadays. We could actually have fun together. We would walk from class to class, sit next to each other, hang out outside of school with our group, tease one another. I would find ways to prank him and every greeting came with a rough (but friendly) punch to the chest. I treated him like I would with any of my other friends.  
  
It was only a matter of time before I saw his true self and he saw mine.  
  
I cracked first. He saw me cry underneath the black umbrella he held over my head. I tried to hide my face behind my pink scarf, but to no avail. Next thing I knew, I was wrapped in his strong arms, my eyes shut tightly against the shoulder of his dark coat. No words were spoken. It was just him and me under one umbrella – just a boy comforting a girl in the pouring rain.  
  
Not too long after, he pulled off his arrogant mask and showed me his true face. I can still recall the fake smile he put on every day, the intense turquoise of his eyes hiding the sorrow in his soul. It was then when I noticed that we weren’t very different after all. At first I was surprised, taken aback by his Thanatos drive, but then again, I’m all the same.  
  
That was when we started exchanging letters.  
  
I wrote more frequently than he did. It’s not that I had a lot more free time compared to him; it was more like I seemed to prioritize it – our correspondence, our pensive conversation, our broken emotions, our way towards healing the scabs before they became scars – more than he ever would. I sent a letter every other week. He wrote one every other month.  
  
I poured my heart and soul into those letters. He was the only one I could trust with my thoughts of death, the afterlife, life itself. My peers would think there is something wrong with me; adults would do whatever it takes to avoid such an inappropriate topic.  
  
In the beginning, my letters started off as silly bantering mixed in with stream of consciousness. I would talk about seemingly pointless things that have a deeper symbolic meaning. However, he just got straight to the point. That’s just the way he was; he never beat around the bush. Unlike me, he faced things head on.  
  
I always responded to his concerns as quickly as I could. That’s just the way I am; I thought that if I could make him happy, then I would be happy too. Everything would be “okay.” And for a while, I was getting better. I was almost “okay.”  
  
But it didn’t last long.  
  
I relapsed, and I was only getting worse. He didn’t seem to notice. He was laughing along with his two best friends. They were moving on together. I was his listener, his confidant, and his “best” friend. But I was never in that picture to begin with; I wasn’t moving on with them – with _him_. I was his rock, but now I’ve been reduced to a weathered down pebble, kicked to the side.  
  
As for my final letter, I hid it behind my entry on the back cover of his yearbook. I taped three sides my entry to his yearbook, leaving the top open so he could find my last letter. I’ll never know if he read it or not. Chances are he didn’t. After all, he taped up the top because I “forgot to tape all four sides.”  
  
Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it’s better that I leave him and those stupid letters behind. He won’t need me anyway. He’s got Mikasa and Armin, his best friends. They’re all going to college together. He kept saying how excited and happy he was. And every time, I would tell him that it’s a sign. And I would smile. And I would punch him. And I would say, “You’re going to miss my punches.” And he would hesitantly say, “I don’t know about that…” And I would smile and laugh. But on the inside, I was broken.  
  
The letters he gave me remain in the same box as all of my other junk. And somewhere at the bottom of the box is an old, dried out fountain pen – the same one I used to write my letters, the same one I used to break the skin off of my left forearm.  
  
And so here I am, sitting alone at the empty table in the darkness. I look at the clock on the barren white wall.  
  
_Four o’clock_  
  
I open the bottle full of white, innocent pellets.  
  
_It’s time to take my medicine._


	2. Ab Ova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand on some other sites, I have added a second chapter - a follow up for the first, full of hope and love, the antithesis of the first chapter.

_Tick…tick…tick…_  
   
 _……Beep……beep……beep……_  
   
Your stiff eyelids cracked open. It was as if sleep never existed to them, for they were heavy and tired. At first everything was a mere blur, but after blinking away the fatigue, you could make out the pristine, white ceiling light that you had originally mistaken for heaven’s bright skies. Your tight lungs labored to function, and for a moment, you forgot that you were breathing.  
   
 _Tick…tick…tick…_  
   
 _……Beep……beep……beep……_  
   
Your neck cracked at the slight turn of your head to the right. You were met with the sight of a heart monitor, hearing the quips of regular beeping every so often. Below that was a pouch of clear liquid, whose tube you followed to the needle in your right forearm. Past those objects was a large window whose curtains were drawn, allowing the setting sun to visit its bedridden patient. A table filled with flowers sat in front of the window. It was clear that you were in the hospital. It was clear that you were alive. It was clear that you had failed.  
   
You slowly sat up to the best of your abilities. Hunched over, your [h/c] locks caressed your cheeks as you stared down into your empty, meaningless palms. How long had it been since they carried your white pellets of salvation? Your body ached in response.  
   
 _Sigh…_  
   
Your head whipped left towards the sound of someone’s presence, only to wince from the pain of such a sudden movement. The door was closed, but there was someone sitting in a cushioned, green armchair facing the bed. He was leaning on the armrest, his elbow white with the pressure from resting the side of his jaw in the heart of his palm. His jet-black hair fell snug over his sleeping face.  
   
A smile threatened to tug at your frown. It was Levi, the boy next door. Though he was three years your senior, the two of you commuted to and from school together, from walking to the elementary school a couple blocks away to driving home together from the high school a few miles away. You remembered your childhood days of storming his house, pranking him, and getting thrown into his pool. He always got mad at you for bothering him and causing a ruckus all the time, and whenever you tried hanging out with him at school, he would brush you off, as if you were a stranger.  
   
Yet he always came to your aid, no matter how callous he seemed. In elementary school, he’d send nasty glares from afar to those kids bullying you during recess. When you were in middle school, he’d accompany you to and from school, despite his being a high schooler, and he’d help you with homework if you really begged him. Every day or so during your freshman year in high school, he’d go out of his way to drop a piece of candy in your locker when no one was looking, and sometimes they were accompanied by little notes, like “Good luck on your test,” “Make some friends or else you’ll become a crazy old cat lady,” “I think that girl’s just using you,” “Don’t flirt with that guy. He’s no good,” “My friend thinks you’re cute. He’s got weird taste,” “You look exhausted,” and “Cheer up.” He always kept you company at home, since your parents worked until late. In fact, he always looked out for you, even from afar.  
   
He’d been busy at college these past few years, but he never failed to keep in touch with you. Even when you eventually answered fewer of his texts, he’d continue to text you almost every day. It was typically something random, like “They ran out of Earl Grey at the café on campus. How dare they” or “My roommate didn’t take out the trash today.” You barely saw each other, but it still felt like he was always there with you.  
   
Gazing upon his peaceful form, a surge of guilt clouded your heart. You were too preoccupied with your own issues that you were the one who was brushing him aside. You hadn’t responded to his efforts to talk to you, you never wrote back any notes as thanks for the candy and encouragement, you never asked if he was lonely or needed help… You took his existence for granted. You felt like you were Eren and Levi was you, and you wondered if Levi ever felt hurt or saddened by your ignoring his hints for attention.  
   
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of a quick motion and heard a groan. You turned, seeing your visitor rub his elbow. Judging by his disgruntled appearance, it must’ve slipped. He cursed under his breath.  
   
He looked up, making eye contact with you.  
   
“Oh. You’re finally awake,” he said. He didn’t smile. It was just as you remembered him.  
   
“I could say the same about you,” you retorted. Your eyes bulged in surprise at the hoarse tone that escaped your lips. You awkwardly cleared your throat and coughed in embarrassment.  
   
“Hn. Well I wasn’t the one knocked out for three days.”  
   
To this, you said nothing. After all, you had hoped to never wake up again.  
   
Sensing your discomfort, he added, “I’m glad you’re awake now.”  
   
Suddenly interested in your dry hands, you asked, “Shouldn’t you be at summer school again?”  
   
The past couple of summers he had been away at summer school so he could graduate sooner.  
   
His gaze never shifted away from your weary eyes. “If you had actually read my texts, you would’ve seen that I decided to go home for the summer.”  
   
Your guilt-ridden silence was taken as an apology.  
   
“I was expecting you to surprise me at home, but…well, this wasn’t the surprise I was hoping for. It’s a good thing I came home that day,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back into the seat.  
   
You blinked in surprise and faced him. “You found me?”  
   
Levi nodded. “I wanted to see you the minute I got home so I could wring your neck and kick your pathetic ass for not texting me back this whole year. So I called you, but you never picked up. I went over to your house, and I thought it was weird that all the curtains were closed in the afternoon. You didn’t answer the door, so I went in with the spare key your mom gave me years ago… Speaking of, your parents freaked out when I told them that you had to go to the hospital. They were a blubbering mess. They got snot all over me. It was gross.”  
   
“What about you? Did you cry?” You let out a sarcastic huff. You already knew the answer. Levi? Crying? Impossible. He was the manliest guy you knew; he hardly showed any emotion.  
   
“What do _you_ think?” His gaze hardened.  
   
You were taken aback by his slightly raised and forceful voice. But upon taking a closer look at his features, you noticed how red the rings beneath his tired, swollen eyes were.  
   
 _Oh… So he did cry._  
   
“I’m sorry,” you said, [e/c] eyes falling to the hospital sheets. You imagined him walking through your dark, lonely house only to find his neighbor seemingly dead on the floor. You wondered if he panicked. You wondered if that’s when he cried. Or maybe he’d been crying this whole time.  
   
 _If I came home after a couple of years away at school and found my friend dead on the ground with a bottle of pills in her hand…I’d surely cry. I don’t think I’d know what to do._  
   
A sigh escaped Levi’s lips as he recomposed himself. “Don’t think that I didn’t notice something was off. That’s why I decided to come home so soon.”  
   
“I’m sorry,” you repeated.  
   
 _I’m just causing more problems… If it weren’t for me, he would be at summer school, getting closer to graduating._  
   
“Stop apologizing. You’re probably thinking that you’re being a burden, aren’t you? Well, I won’t lie to you and say that you aren’t.” He looked you dead in the eye. “Everyone’s a burden, whether or not they try to kill themselves. I’m a burden, my parents are, my friends are, your parents are, your friends are, that guy selling flowers on the streets is a burden… Everyone needs taking care of, no matter how strong they are. But what’s important is that these people looking after you love you and care about you. Your parents skipped work for the past couple days to stay with you in the hospital. Sure, you could say that because of you, they’re not earning money for those two days; but you could see that they love you so much that they’re willing to not earn money just to stay beside you. There are a million jobs in the world, but there’s only one of you. They… _We_ were desperate to keep you alive… And a lot of your friends came by to see you. You’re not alone.”  
   
It took a few moments for those words to sink in. By that time, your teary eyes had dried up. It was a new perspective that you would have to adjust to, but it wasn’t impossible to see.  
   
“You opted out of summer school for me…so…does that mean…?” you muttered.  
   
“Oi. Don’t get full of yourself, brat,” Levi clicked his tongue.  
   
You almost let out a giggle. It was like old times, this playful banter. Of course he cared about you. He never stopped caring, and quite frankly he didn’t know when he started.  
   
“Say, Levi?” you called to him.  
   
He hummed in response.  
   
“Thanks for everything, that candy and those notes included. Thanks for keeping me company. Thanks for looking after the useless me.” You grinned. The upturned lips felt foreign. When was the last time that you genuinely smiled? You felt warm from your toes to your cheeks, the pit of your stomach bubbling with a girlish excitement.  
   
The expression on the boy’s face loosened up, and there was a ghost of a relaxed smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s a troublesome job, but I can’t trust anyone else to do it well. But if you ever try pulling that stunt again, I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself. I can’t afford to get another heart attack.”  
   
You were thankful that he was the first person you woke up to see. If it had been your parents, they would bombard you with questions and demand answers. But Levi…he knew all the right words to make you smile, how to make you feel better.  
   
“By the way,” you motioned to the window, “where did all these flowers come from?”  
   
The thought of Eren coming by with flowers spurred a jumble of emotions. But maybe he didn’t even know what happened…  
   
“Friends, family…the usual.”  
   
Examining the vases and bouquets of flowers, you immediately scrutinized over the vase of [favorite flower] that bloomed beneath the now darkening sky.  
   
“Do you know who gave that one?” You pointed to it.  
   
Eren knew your favorite flower. Perhaps he –  
   
“I did,” Levi said. “You’ve always liked those, right? Whenever we passed a flower shop on our way home, you always stared at them for a really long time. It was annoying. I had to drag you away.”  
   
Your heart fluttered. He remembered from that long ago?  
   
“W-Well, did Eren ever pass by? You know, brown hair, green eyes…” you nervously asked. You didn’t know if you should hear the answer, bracing yourself for the worst outcome.  
   
“Yeah, he did. Earlier today.”  
   
Your pulse quickened, your cheeks rising in heat.  
   
“But I shooed him away,” Levi said nonchalantly.  
   
You snapped. “What? Why?!”  
   
The onyx haired man quirked an eyebrow, befuddled. “I thought you hated him. You always complained about him since you were in middle school. Besides, his hair looked like shit. Bet it stank too.”  
   
You blinked and burst into laughter before a blunt Levi.  
   
“You and your stupid potty jokes,” you managed between chuckles, occasionally coughing from lack of air. You couldn’t believe how great his memory was when it came to matters regarding you. He was the older brother of your dreams.  
   
Levi stood unexpectedly and came before you. He was still just as short as he was the last time you saw him – which was when he left for college – and you were a tad bit taller than him…which is why he was glad you were sitting in bed at the moment. He felt a sense of superiority from being temporarily taller than you. He raised a finger and flicked your forehead.  
   
“Ow!” You yelped, rubbing your forehead, no longer laughing.  
   
“Hey, is Jaeger your boyfriend or something?”  
   
You glanced at Levi, his usual stern features had returned.  
   
“No…he isn’t.” Your gaze lowered, melancholic from the bitter memories.  
   
“Hn.” He grabbed his coat resting on the chair. “Well, I wouldn’t have approved of him for you anyway.”  
   
You scoffed, eyes rolling. “The only person you ever approve of is yourself.”  
   
“Yup.”  
   
You froze, stuttering and blushing at the sight of the stoic Levi smirking before heading towards the door.  
   
“W-Wait!” Were you overthinking things? Or did that mean…?  
   
In your flushed frenzy, you clutched a pillow and chucked it at his head.  
   
“Damn you, Levi Ackerman! I hate you!” you screeched, attracting attention from nurses and other patients.  
   
Expecting a deadly glare and a slap on the head, you instinctively flinched the moment you realized what you had done. But instead you were met with a small item plopping on your lap. It was your phone.  
   
“Don’t think I won’t get revenge tomorrow.” With his disheveled hair, Levi left scowling, earning a sheepish laugh from you.  
   
You unlocked your phone and saw hundreds of neglected messages, most of which were from Levi. However, your eyes lit up at the sight of Eren’s name as one of the people who texted you. He heard that you were hospitalized and asked if everything was okay, while also ranting about Levi’s rude behavior. You giggled and found yourself staring longingly at the door through which your guardian came and went. Despite being alone in the room, you had only a slight sensation of physical loneliness. Though there were remnants from that feeling akin to an empty void, you knew that it was just a matter of time before you would rejoice in the fluffiness of bliss and love. Thanks to Levi, you were not alone. You never were.  
   
Tired of running away, you decided to respond to the boy named Eren Jaeger, a soft smile adorned on your features.  
   
 _“I’ll be fine.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I typically do not like writing Reader Inserts in first person POV, but I felt that this work needed it. It literally puts you in the mindset of the narrator. There is no mention of the name of the narrator, nor is there any mention of Eren's name anywhere in the first chapter; it could be anyone.
> 
> This fic, although not a particularly happy one, was my way of raising some form of awareness towards depression and suicide. Depression hurts a good proportion of the world's population. Yes, it is treatable, and the majority of people who seek treatment are treated successfully. However, not every case with depression ends up with a success story. Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death in people ages 15-24 in the USA, and it's the 4th leading cause of death in people ages 18-65.
> 
> Disclaimers:  
> I do not own Eren Jaeger or Levi Ackerman or any of Attack on Titan / SnK / Shingeki no Kyojin  
> I do not own you  
> I DO own this story.
> 
> Comments, feedback, love... it's all much appreciated~


End file.
